“Who knows?” said Mrs. Torkel. “I don’t know of any other code, but I can’t say how it got in that doll. The doll’s not that old.”
“Maybe some treasure hunter found the code and hid it in the doll,” said Juliet.
“Do the Parrishes still live in Glendale-Marsh?” asked Diane.
“No, they been gone from there for about thirty or forty years. Died out, mainly.”
“Wow,” said Juliet. “Treasure right there and I didn’t know about it?”
“We found lots of treasure in our shells,” said her grandmother. “They seem to have served you well. I imagine you’ve made more money from your interest in shells than you ever would from looking for treasure.”
Diane finished the last bite of her cake. “Juliet…,” began Diane.
“I really don’t want to stay in a hotel,” said Juliet. “I will if I have to, but…”
“I’ll have museum Security watch your apartment,” said Diane.
“You think the guy who held you up for the doll is my kidnapper, don’t you?” said Juliet.
“Yes,” said Diane, “I do. I don’t know how it all fits together, but I’m working on it. I really don’t want to alarm you, but I think he may be afraid you remember him.”
“Why?” asked Juliet.
Why? A good question, thought Diane. It was something else that had been nagging at the corner of her mind. Then, like the slow movement of molasses, it simply flowed into her brain.
“I think it has something to do with what you said before you were kidnapped. In the newspaper articles, neighbors were quoted as having heard you say, ‘I don’t know you’ to someone near your backyard. Just before Joana Cipriano was murdered, she was heard to say to a man at her door, ‘Do I know you?’ The phrases are so close, I think her murderer was convinced he was recognized. Joana turned out to be the wrong person, but the conviction that you would be able to identify him carried over.”
“You think it is about the treasure?” asked Juliet.
“He wanted the doll. A code was in the doll. That’s the only story we’ve heard so far that contains a code. So, yes. It may be just a treasure story, but he may believe it to be true.”
“So he was trying to get the doll when he kidnapped me twenty years ago?” said Juliet.
“Maybe. We won’t know that until we find him. But the police are on it. We are taking precautions, so don’t you or your grandmother worry.”
“Maybe we should stay in a hotel,” said her grandmother. “A nice one.”
“Why don’t you do that?” said Diane. “I’ll have someone from museum Security stay next door.”
“That sounds just fine,” said Mrs. Torkel. “They can follow us over to your apartment to get some things, Juliet. I’ll get a chance to see where you live, then we’ll stay in a nice hotel.”
Juliet smiled at her grandmother. Diane got the idea that Mrs. Torkel had mellowed considerably since Juliet was a little girl.
When they finished eating their cake, Diane took them to the Security office and arranged for an escort and guard. From there she went to her office and removed the evidence bag with the original code from her safe, put it in her pocket, and walked up to the top floor of the east wing to the museum library and archives.
Beth, the museum’s librarian, was a slender middle-aged woman with snow white hair whom Diane had hired when she was eased out of the university library in favor of younger employees. Age discrimination was against university regulations, but being passed over for promotions, and other passive-aggressive measures, were hard to prove and to defend against. She was clearly Bartram’s loss and the museum’s gain.
The door issued a gentle jingle as Diane opened it. Beth, holding a book, was standing on a tall library ladder. She looked down to see who had entered, placed the book on the shelf, and climbed down.
She looked warm in her navy pantsuit. Diane shivered. Beth kept the library slightly cooler than Diane liked, but she apparently found it very comfortable.
“Dr. Fallon,” she said, “what can I do for you?”
Among Beth’s abilities as a librarian and archivist, she was an outstanding genealogist and taught several community classes at the museum. Genealogy wasn’t in the domain of natural history, but it was history and it was in the domain of classes people would pay to take, and that made it good for the museum.
“Beth, I have a task for you,” said Diane.
She smiled. “I hope it’s not as difficult as the task you gave Kendel.”
Diane smiled, too. “I don’t think so. I have someone I want you to trace for me. I would like to know his ancestry at least one or two generations back, but mainly his descendants-and not just his direct descendants.”
Beth went to get a pen and paper. She held the pen poised over the pad. “What’s his name?”
“Leo Parrish. I don’t know the exact spelling. He was in his twenties in the late 1930s and lived in Glendale-Marsh, Florida, at that time. He enlisted in the Second World War, but I don’t know which branch of service. He was listed as missing in action. He wrote to relatives while he was in the service, but I don’t know who they are. I know that’s not much to go on.”
“Actually, that’s quite a bit. When do you want the information?”
“Yesterday, if you can manage it,” said Diane.
“Time travel’s my speciality. I’ll see what I can do.”
Beth smiled, and Diane thanked her and walked downstairs to the conservation lab and into the head conservator’s office.
“Korey,” said Diane, “do you have a minute?”
“Dr. F.,” said Korey, “I’d be a bad employee indeed, if I didn’t have time for my boss. I’ve got that analysis Kendel asked for. It’s not newsprint, but paper used in books circa thirties and forties.”
“Book paper. Interesting.” Diane took the evidence bag from her pocket and removed the original paper containing the code.
“What you got here, Dr. F.? Looks like some kind of cryptogram.”
“This is the paper the sample came from. What I want you to do is duplicate it-it doesn’t have to be exact, just look old. And I want the printing changed to simple random letters, but basically the same format and near the same handwriting as you can get it.”
Korey put a hand on the back of his dreadlocks, raised his eyebrows, and grinned. His brown eyes sparkled.
“When you get finished with whatever it is you’re doing,” he said, “I’ll buy you a steak if you’ll tell me what this is about.”
“You’ve got a deal. Can you do it?”
“Sure. When do you need it?” he asked.
“As soon as you can get to it,” said Diane.
“You got it,” said Korey.
“Put the original in your vault for me,” said Diane. “And don’t talk about it to anyone.”
“Sounds like a serious scrap of paper,” he said as he held it up to the light.
“Deadly serious,” she said.
As she left his office, her cell phone vibrated. The display said it was Garnett.
“Diane,” he said, “just called to tell you we have a line on the Impala.”
Chapter 44
“You’ve found the Impala? That’s a relief,” said Diane. She climbed the steps to the third floor.
“We don’t have it yet. It’s been sighted and we have a lead on it. I just thought I’d let you know, so when we find it, your people can process it,” said Garnett.
“I’ll give them a heads-up,” said Diane. “I’m really eager to find this guy. He told me that if I didn’t give him the package, he would open fire on the busload of children visiting the museum.”
“This is somebody we need to catch soon,” said Garnett.
“You won’t get an argument from me.”
“So, it’s your thinking that the Cipriano murder was a case of mistaken identity?” said Garnett.